The Duel
by Twilight Scribe
Summary: This fic is an informal duel between Blackmoon and I, fought with oneshots. Come and watch the sparks fly! Includes Pokemon, Batman, Naruto, Phoenix Wright, and Death Note.
1. Pokemon, Scribe

AN: All right, this is going to take some explaining... First, this fic isn't a crossover. (That was just the most accurate category I could find for it.) It's an informal duel between Blackmoon and I, fought with oneshots. (Between one and five hundred words each, not counting author's notes.)

We've picked five different fandoms that we both feel comfortable writing in. They are, in order of appearance: Pokemon, Batman, Naruto, Phoenix Wright, and Death Note. We'll both write a short oneshot, which must be written in one day with only one draft, for each fandom and compare our results to decide which of us is the finer fanficcer. You readers can feel free to decide who you prefer and cheer us on. (Hint hint...)

Now, here's my part of round one of our duel/challenge/project/thingamabob. This time it's (personal!) Pokemon!

* * *

**Yoink!**

There it was. That wondrous backpack, filled with all sorts of the fun, shiny things that his trainer was always playing around with. Nuggets, evolutionary stones, pokeballs, other strange items you needed opposable thumbs to use... And a bike! A collapsible bike! How cool was that?!

Zigzagoon just had to get in there, to root around and see all there was for himself! Maybe he'd get lucky and find his trainer's pokeblock case too... Yum.

An adorably devious grin flitted across his muzzle as Zigzagoon threw a quick glance over at his trainer. The human was still a ways off and completely preoccupied with picking berries. Perfect! Sure that he wouldn't be interrupted, the tiny racoon pokemon scurried up to the bag, stood on his hind legs as he reached up to grab the zipper pull in his sharp little teeth, and tugged; opening up a long section of zipper. Zigzagoon stuck his head inside...

His trainer had so much cool stuff! As he marveled at all the items tucked away in each of the bag's internal compartments, a particularly shiny thing drew Zigzagoon's eye. It reminded him of a bottle and it had a spray nozzle on top. And it was shiny. He bit down on it, just lightly to test what it was. It tasted like...

Wait, were those footsteps? Forgetting his analysis entirely, Zigzagoon yanked his head out of the bag, desperately searching the area and hoping he hadn't been seen. Just as he feared, his trainer was done picking berries and was coming back! This was bad. he knew he couldn't be caught rifling around in his trainer's backpack. If he got caught, he wouldn't get a pokeblock dessert after dinner!

Thinking fast, Zigzagoon raced across the small clearing and leapt into the tall grass, hiding and watching as his trainer walked into view. The human bent down, set aside her armload of berries, and examined the bag.

"Did I leave this open?" To Zigzagoon's relief, his trainer just sighed and started packing the berries away. "I've got to be more careful with my stuff... Hey, Zigzagoon, where are you? It's time to go!"

Answering his trainer's call, Zigzagoon trundled out of the tall grass, realizing a second too late that he still had that shiny thing for before clamped tightly in his jaws.

"Hey, what's that?" Zigzagoon tensed as his trainer noticed the item. He was in so much trouble... "Wow, a Full Restore! Did you just find this? Good job! That Pickup ability of yours sure comes in handy." Zigzagoon just nodded slowly and dropped the item into his trainer's outstretched hand. Was she for real? His trainer opened up the items pocket in her bag. "I'm really excited! This is a great find, Zigzagoon. Full Restores are so expensive and-" She paused. "Huh, what gives? I could have sworn I had another one of these in here already..."

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AN: I'm pretty sure my Zigzagoon has done this to me at some point too...

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	2. Pokemon, Blackmoon

Blackmoon: I never saw it coming. A staunch Digimon supporter-slash-enthusiast-slash-fanboy such as myself, writing Pokemon fanfiction. Never thought I'd see the day...

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**Bug Type Is Also Weak To Crush Type**

The Pokedex is an invaluable tool for every aspiring Pokemon trainer. It contains a vast wealth of information about virtually any Pokemon, accessible at the touch of a button; it can help get to know your partner better, or analyze gaps in the opponent's defense. Indeed, even the most trivial knowledge, in the right hands, can become quite formidable.

Swimmer Tristan had come quite a long way from his typical stomping- er, _splashing_ grounds in the coastal waters, but every dedicated trainer has to go on a bit of a pilgrimage if they want to be the very best. He was fond of his Water-type Pokemon, all six of them (his friends told him taking only a single type with him seemed kinda dumb, but Tristan had argued that all the Gym Leaders were type specialists, and they sure as heck didn't get that far by being dumb); he rarely went anywhere without them, and they made for a convenient mode of transportation when there was water to be crossed. There had, of course, been setbacks; Tristan still shuddered when he thought of that fight against a Poké Kid (_so many Pikachus..._), but the struggles had made him all the tougher.

The match he found himself in now, though, felt a little more even. Bug Maniac Alex had wanted to fight, and golly, a fight he would have! Tristan had been taken by surprise at first. It was clear Alex had been training his Pokemon extra hard to get this far, and the two trainers were on the ropes. Tristan only had two Pokemon left, and one of those two was on the field already- his poor, weakened Tentacruel. It wasn't doing too well against Alex's hardy Venomoth, having been poisoned during the fight, but Tristan had some tricks left up his sleeves.

He reached for his Pokedex.

It bleeped, and blooped, and eventually, a readout appeared on the screen:

"**Venomoth**

Bug/Poison Type

4'11"/27.6 lbs."

It continued printing information, but an idea has formed in Tristan's head, and he grinned as he skipped forward to another entry.

"Tentacruel, come back!" Tristan shouted as his Pokemon dematerialized and returned to its container. He grinned and whipped out his last remaining Pokeball from... well, he wasn't wearing a whole lot, so it wasn't clear, but the point was, he had it. "_Go, Wailord!_"

Bug Maniac Alex grinned confidently, but instead of tossing the Pokeball to the ground, Tristan hurled it into the air. The spherical capsule clicked open, and a massive shadow expanded on the ground over the unsuspecting Venomoth.

Incidentally, according to the Pokedex, Wailord's weight comes in near the region of 875 pounds.

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	3. Batman, Scribe

AN: All right, I conceded the last chapter. Round one goes to Blackmoon. But now, Batman!

* * *

**He Really Hates It**

Waiting around on cold, shadowed rooftops in the middle of the night was never Commissioner Gordon's favorite hobby. Especially not when the one you've been waiting for, sometimes for hours, has a habit of appearing, speaking cryptically for a few minutes, then literally disappearing without a word; leaving you talking to shadows like an idiot. It was bad enough that after only a few meetings with Batman, "people who leave without saying goodbye properly" soared right to the top of the Commissioner's list of pet peeves.

But it wasn't going to happen again, not this time. No, this time he was prepared. With the Gotham Police Department's finest marksmen trained on the precinct, watching through their scopes from six different directions, there was no way Batman was going to make his escape unnoticed. Tonight he was finally going to find out how Batman got off that goddamn roof.

"Care to explain the snipers, Gordon?" The low, growling voice-out-of-nowhere was always startling, but over the years the Commissioner had trained himself not to jump at it. Well, at least not to jump too high.

"Peace of mind." Liar! "I've been ambushed by your rogue's gallery up here too many times." He lit a cigarette and took a drag before turning to face the Caped Crusader. "You didn't do anything to my men, did you?"

"They're napping. What do you have for me."

Damn. He should have known... Suppressing an exasperated sigh, the Commissioner reached for the thick manila envelope he'd been holding tucked under his arm ad offered it to Batman, turning back to look over the city once it was accepted. Hopefully the vigilante hadn't been too rough with his men... He'd see to it that they all received bonuses and hazard pay.

"That's what our investigation turned up so far." Gordon paused and took another drag. "Look at the victim's wounds. Seem familiar?" There was a rustling of paper and a noncommittal grunt from Batman.

"It looks like an animal attack. Maybe Killer Croc. Have you been keeping tabs on him?"

"No, but we're looking now. This is the fourth time the killer's-" He stopped, then looked over his shoulder, painfully aware that he was once again alone on the roof. "I hate it when he does that..."

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AN: My alternate title for this was "Use the Goddamn Door!" A reference to a truly awesome comic... (http : / / www . shortpacked . com / d / 20051230 . html)

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	4. Batman, Blackmoon

**Well, It **_**Was**_** Pretty Funny**

It was raining hard again in Gotham.

Which was good, really. The Caped Crusader was all about mood, and nothing makes ambience like rainfall in the city.

It was good brooding weather.

It had been one mother of a day. Long list of incidents involving Commissioner Gordon, his daughter, and the so-called Clown Prince of Crime, all leading up to an encounter between the Joker and the Batman that made them realize they're not so different.

Not that Batman wanted to admit it. He broke down in that moment; he laughed at the Joker's little gag, and that sort of thing was only going to encourage him to keep trying. That sort of thinking is dangerous.

But you know, the fact is, the Joker had always been funny to Batsy. Oh, sure, he likes to try to come off as serious, deadpan, even downright grim most of the time, but that's just a facade. A facade so deep he even covers it up in front of Alfred and whichever poor kid's been duped into playing Robin for a while. The truth of it is that Batman has a pretty twisted sense of humor.

He condemned the Joker for a lot of stuff, always saying he was a maniac, a psychopath, someone who shouldn't be allowed in public, but Batman always appreciated the man's sense of humor. He always chuckled a little on the inside at his little jokes, even if his face was a veritable mask. I mean, come on- giving a bunch of fish giant, demented grins and then _patenting_ it? That's pretty messed up, sure, but damned if Bruce didn't get a bit of a giggle out of it.

It had certainly been a long day, but that last joke was still pretty funny.

Of course, the Batman didn't really want to admit that.

That was why he was on a rooftop, in a bat costume, getting wet.

It was more poignant that way.


	5. Naruto, Scribe

AN: I have to thank my little brother for this one. (Thanks Arcus!) He mentioned this idea to me weeks ago and I'm glad I finally got to use it.

* * *

**Bad Idea**

Uh-oh.

Naruto's eyes darted back and forth between the empty drawer in front of him and the steaming cup of instant ramen sitting on the kitchen counter. How could he be completely out of clean utensils? No spoons, no chopsticks... Hadn't he just done the dishes a couple weeks ago?

Man... How was he supposed to finish making breakfast if he couldn't find anything to stir his ramen with? Naruto was sure he'd be able to make due and drink the ramen once it was all mixed together, but just sloshing it around in the cup wasn't going to get the job done. Digging through the towering pile of dirty, festering dishes in the sink for something to stir with was the absolute last thing he wanted to do and it was too hot to use his fingers...

Sure, he could wait for it to cool a little, but he was hungry now!

Maybe... Naruto stared at the ramen. What he had in mind sounded a little silly, and maybe it was going a little overboard, but it was worth a shot. If he used less chakra than normal, he could make it little enough to fit inside the cup and spin the ramen to mix it!

"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

When the smoke cleared, the shadow clone nodded, ready to get to work. Naruto picked up the ramen, holding the cup in his left hand, and let his chakra swirl in his right while the clone punched it into the proper ball shape. the final result was a compact mass of whirling energy about the size of a marble. Naruto put his hand, palm down, over the top of the cup. It was now or never!

"Tiny Rasengan!"

SPLORT!

The styrofoam cup exploded in a shower of hot broth, flinging soggy noodles across the kitchen and destroying Naruto's shadow clone. _'Maybe,'_ Naruto thought as he wiped the nearly-boiling soup off his face, _'I should just go out to eat...'_

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AN: I stir my ramen before eating it, otherwise I find the noodles get all wibbly and intertwined, forming into a massive noodle ball that's annoying to eat.

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	6. Naruto, Blackmoon

**Oh, So **_**That's**_** What It Is**

"_Shadow Clone Jutsu!_"

Naruto's image flickered, and suddenly, his body copied itself dozens, hundreds, thousands of times. The hapless opponent, Kioku- a missing-nin from the Kirigakure- stepped back in horror as his opponent surrounded him, then steeled himself for the coming fight. Each shadow clone mimicked the same motion, crossing their arms confidently as the original said, "Looks like that's the end of it. Give up now and I'll take it easy on ya!"

A breeze blew through the forest, billowing Kioku's robe. He tightened his Mist Village headband and grinned. "I have you right where I want you." Naruto's eyebrow perked up quizzically, and with lightning speed, Kioku formed a barrage of hand signs. A strange, gray chakra-based energy seemed to well up in him, and Naruto- and every shadow clone with him- charged to attack simultaneously.

Ten years ago, in the streets of Kirigakure, a figure walked, huddled over in the rain. A young Kioku went from one dwelling to the next, all the way down the mud-mired streets, seeking some respite from the pouring rain, but each time, he was refused. The villagers knew his power- the deadly force hidden within him- and in their fear and hatred, they shunned him. A lonely child, he only wanted the attention and friendship of another, but--

_Wait! This isn't right... what's going on?_

Naruto quickly came to his senses, and with all his willpower, removed a kunai from his back pouch and gouged a mark in his own leg, the sudden pain overtaking his mind. The Kirigakure world melted away, and he returned to the present, to see Kioku dispatch the last of Naruto's shadow clones.

"You figured it out."

"A genjutsu?"

"Exactly," replied Kioku with a sly smirk. "My genjutsu is specifically developed to force my opponent to sit through the story of my past, giving me ample time to defeat them. Using it right at the climax of a fight really puts them off guard."

"So was any of that story actually true?"

"No, I like to make up a different tragic backstory every time I use that jutsu. I actually had a pretty nice childhood, I'm just sort of a jerk sometimes."

It was an unseasonably cold summer in Kirigakure that year; a small child, a young Kioku, was being beaten mercilessly by the neighborhood toughs for not giving up the last of his allowance...

_Oh, man, __**come**__**on!**_


	7. Phoenix Wright, Scribe

* * *

**You're Not On Candid Camera**

A gentle knock on the door of Wright and Co. Law Offices pulled Phoenix's attention away form the menacing pile of paperwork on his desk. Who could that be? Miles, Larry, and Gumshoe never bothered to knock. In fact, all of the office's regular visitors had a habit of just walking in. Maybe whoever was at the door was a new client...

Rising from his seat, Phoenix started for the door, but Maya beat him to it and threw the door open to reveal two young and mildly distressed women.

"Hello! Welcome to Wright and Co. Law Offices, please come in!" She ushered the women in with a wide, manic smile and sat them down on the office couch before scurrying off to make tea. Phoenix sighed, grabbed the chair from behind his desk, and wheeled it over in front of the sofa to sit with the now-bewildered women.

"Sorry about my assistant, she's easily excitable." He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "Anyway, I'm Phoenix Wright. How can I help you?" The women were silent for a moment then the one to Phoenix's left, who he thought looked slightly more confident than her friend, spoke up.

"We're in trouble, Mr. Wright. They accused us of dining and dashing from a bunch of places all over the city, but we didn't do it!"

Phoenix slipped a hand into his pocket to use the magatama while he listened to the woman tell her story. When no psyche locks popped up, he nodded.

"All right. I believe you're innocent and I'll represent you at your trial, but I..." The sheepish look from before returned. "I need to know your names first." Both women's eyes widened.

"I'm so sorry!" The confident one pointed to herself. "My name's Ariva. Ariva D'Erchi. And this," she gestured to the other woman. "Is my friend Saya Nara."

Wow... Phoenix didn't know what to say to that. Arive D'Erchi and Saya Nara, both accused of dining and dashing? That... Was this some sort of prank? No, it couldn't be. If it was, the magatama would have picked up on the lie, but still... Phoenix couldn't help but feel Maya had put them up to this.

* * *

AN: Yay, I finally get to use this stupid idea that was too short for everything else! You just gotta love the pun names.

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	8. Phoenix Wright, Blackmoon

**I Give 'Em A Week To Bankruptcy**

Another quiet day in the office for a Mr. Phoenix Wright. There hadn't been a case in a while, which, while a relief, meant there wasn't a whole lot of cash flow. This wasn't helped by Maya and Pearl, who, while a pleasure to have around, were a tremendous drain on the budget. The sheer amount of food those two went through was astounding. In fact, that thought was troubling Phoenix while he sorted his legal files.

"What's wrong, Nick?" asked Maya, cheerfully.

"Well..." _How can I say this delicately?_ he thought to himself. "Uh, Maya, we haven't had a case in a while, and... well, eating out every day's putting a bit of a strain on our finances."

"What? But I only eat off the value meal!"

"I know, I know..." In his head, Phoenix added, _Yeah, but a dollar a burger isn't that great of a deal when you get five at a time..._

"So," pouted Maya, "what are we gonna do?"

"Hm... I was actually thinking you could get a job, you know, to help supplement our income. You liked working at Mr. Armstrong's restaurant that one time, didn't you? Maybe you could do something like that again."

"Oo, yeah, that _was_ fun! Good idea, Nick! I'll start looking for something tomorrow, all right?"

Satisfied that the problem was solved, Phoenix was able to continue with his work unperturbed. That is, up until the next day, when Maya came running up to Phoenix, extremely excited.

"So, good news? You find a job?"

"I sure did, Nick! You'll never guess where!"

"Hmm... you got me. Where?"

"At the Burgerama down the street! I get an employee discount and everything!"

_Uh oh. I wonder when the "For Sale" sign is going to go up on _that_ lot..._


	9. Death Note, Scribe

**It's For the Best**

What to do, what to do?

For the first time in a long while, L was unsure of himself; uncertain that he would be able to make the right decision. The outcome of this exchange would directly affect his abilities of deduction over the coming days and thus his ability to isolate and defeat Kira. With an untold number of lives depending on his judgment and so many possible options, the choice was an exceptionally difficult one.

Should he proceed incorrectly now, it would mean setbacks for the entire investigation. Possibly even a victory for Kira later... But the right choice would ensure he was equipped to apprehend the murderer.

L bit the tip of his thumb lightly, pondering each and every one of his potential courses of action before finally selecting the most effective option and catching the attention of the young lady standing behind the bakery's counter.

"Are you ready to order, sir?" She smiled cheerfully.

"Yes." L hunched over even more, bending to get a closer look at all the delectable-looking sweets and pastries on display behind the counter's curved glass. "I'll have one of everything, please."


	10. Death Note, Blackmoon

**Can I Help You?**

The coffeeshop door opened with a jingle. In walked the strangest character any of the baristas had seen in many years- a hunched-over man in his early 20s, dressed in plain clothes, but with wild black hair and dark bags under his piercing eyes. L Lawliet- in this case, working under the assumed name "Hideki Ryuga"- was in the area, and in public, as part of the Kira investigation, but the time when he would confront the suspect Light was still a while off, and L's sweet tooth was starting to act up. He had considered stopping by the convenience store, but ultimately decided on the coffeeshop instead, on the basis that carrying a mountain of candy to the To-Oh University entrance exams would be slightly suspicious.

"Hi!" chirped the barista. "Can I help you?"

"Mm, yes... uh, black coffee, please."

"Certainly, sir, just a moment!"

When it was ready, the girl handed L his drink; he paid, and made an immediate beeline towards the counter with the cream and sugar. He ripped open the first sugar packet, and emptied its contents into the coffee. Then came the second. And the third. And the fourth.

By the seventh packet, the baristas and some of the patrons were starting to give him funny looks.

By the tenth, coffee was starting to spill over the edges of the cup as a tiny white mountain of sugar crystals formed in the coffee.

He was midway through the thirteenth packet of sugar when the barista who had taken his order asked, nervously, "Uh, sir? Can... can I help you with that?"

"Actually," said L, bringing his drink back up to the counter with utmost care so as not to spill it. "Yes, you can. You're out of sugar over there. Do you have any more in the back? I can't stand the taste of Sweet 'n Low."

* * *

Scribe: Okay, Blackmoon doesn't have anything to say, but I'd just like to mention that he and I had no idea what the other was writing until we finished and traded our pieces. Great (twisted) minds, eh?

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End file.
